


A flame in my hands

by zetsubooty



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bullying, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mihashi stayed at Mihoshi AU, Slightly - Freeform, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, YEAH OK THIS IS SOME SERIOUSLY SELF-INDULGENT SHIT AND IM SORRY, still questionable because
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7559812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubooty/pseuds/zetsubooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Practicums are supposed to introduce students to some of the challenges they'll encounter as future instructors. Abe Takaya just wasn't expecting to run into a challenge like third year Mihashi Ren right off the bat. But he's determined to turn this struggling nervous wreck into a SUCCESS, goddamnit, and a learning opportunity for both of them.</p><p>And Mihashi? Mihashi really, really wants a friend. Or maybe not a friend. More like a champion. But is that what he really needs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A flame in my hands

**Author's Note:**

> SO AYYYYYY LMAO especially with the shitshow goin down in the voltron fandom right now, I just wanna start this off by acknowledging that this trope is capital-p-problematic. Aging Mihashi up and making Abe an undergrad student just makes it not ILLEGAL, doesn't make it not Questionable in terms of power dynamics, etc. But I'm a terrible person and I'm still gonna write it, apparently.
> 
> If you ever feel that this, or anything else I write, is inadequately tagged, please let me know!
> 
> also there's a brief alcohol mention here.

Mihashi flits down the hallway, avoiding eye contact with the few other stragglers.

_If I’m only just on time, if I’m there only when the teacher is, then maybe, maybe, maybe they won’t do anything to me just yet._

He hugs the wall away from Hatake’s classroom, watching the cracked-open door warily for a moment before darting past. He’s looking over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Hatake lunging out of the door like some haunted house scare, when he crashes full-on into someone.

Someone very large and very soft and very warm.

Mihashi can’t move for a second, torn between abject horror and total bliss at being squashed against a firm chest. After what feels like an eternity (but not long enough), he stumbles back, brought up short when whoever it is grabs the back collar of his blazer.

“You’re late.”

He looks up to find Abe-sensei glaring down at him. Mihashi stammers out an excuse and an apology all at once so it just comes out a garbled mess. Abe-sensei gives him a pained look, then turns, half-dragging him into the classroom and sliding the door closed behind them.

Mihashi manages to trip three times in the course of getting to his seat; at least one of those wasn’t his fault, though. By the time he’s settled, Abe-sensei is seated at his own desk writing notes while Goda-sensei continues with roll call.

_Is there math first thing today…? Did I bring my book?? I…I don’t think so… If it’s later, maybe I can run back to the dorms at lunch. But…_

_But if I do, they might catch me where there’s no one watching._

Dread twists in his gut at the prospect. But also at the thought of Abe-sensei’s disappointed glare.

_Not like having my book will stop that, anyway._

He understands things a lot better when Abe-sensei explains them, but it’s still his worst subject, and that’s saying something. And he can’t seem to understand _anything_ if Abe-sensei tries to explain it directly to him, just freezes up until he makes a disgusted noise and leaves. Mihashi’s eyes flick to him once again.

_I’m sorry, sensei. I’m sorry you came to learn how to teach with someone as stupid as me. He must hate coming here. And it’s all because of me, it’s all my fault. What if Abe-sensei decides to give up being a teacher because I’m so terrible? What if—_

Something pings off his ear. Somebody behind him sniggers.

Mihashi buries his head in his arms, missing Abe’s quelling glare at the offenders.

* * *

 

“So…” Goda leans over his notebook, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That concludes this godawful review.” He jots down a few more things in a neatly-legible hand before peering across at Abe. “Anything…anything else on your mind?”

Abe frowns at the desk between them for a moment then looks up. “How do you deal with it? The exasperation, I mean.”

“Eh? I…” Goda leans back in his chair. “How do you mean?”

Abe leans his elbows on his knees, sagging forward. “There’s kids who eat the material up and ask for more, and there’s the kids that struggle a bit but get there fine in the end, but then there’s… There are a couple kids,” _one kid, let’s be honest I’m talking about one kid_ , “who I just can’t seem to get through to. Like the more I try to help, the more they tune out.”

Goda chuckles. “Well, unfortunately, not everyone is as keen on maths as you are. But you may be having more of an effect than you know. As for the frustration…” He tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “I know more than a few who find relief at the bottom of a bottle. And Miyasawa has herself a license for a BB gun and goes out to her parent’s farm every now and then to take it out on some cans. Me, personally?” He smiles wryly. “I favour screaming into pillows. Also suppression and denial. Denial works _wonders_ for dealing with so many aspects of teaching life; just wait until you see what your salary will be.”

Abe grimaces. “That’s…not particularly comforting or helpful.”

“Well, m'boy, it’s all I’ve got for you.” He wheezes out a laugh before waving his hand. “Just follow your heart, and I’m sure you’ll find an appropriate outlet.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Abe pushes out of the chair, bowing curtly before collecting his bag and leaving.

* * *

 

Angling the folder towards the light, Abe checks the class list once more before knocking; not that he’s uncertain, but it never hurts to check. He raises his hand, rapping shortly on the dorm room’s door. “Mihashi?”

There’s an abrupt silence from within. Which is when he first processes that the scuffling noise is something other than the background noise of a building full of boys. Abe frowns, knocking again.

There’s a flurry of activity from the other side of the door and then it swings inward, revealing a greasily-smiling boy, Dezaki, along with several others lounging about the room with suspicious nonchalance. And in the middle, looking like he’s been left out of the joke, stands a rumpled-looking Mihashi staring back at him miserably.

Abe clears his throat. “Everything alright in here?”

“Absolutely. Never better.” Dezaki’s grin widens.

Abe misses it, though, is still looking only at Mihashi, who now avoids his eyes. _He looks less rumpled than roughed-up. Shit._ “Good. Why don’t you guys run along for a moment? I need to talk to Mihashi about some class materials.” Abe wouldn’t have believed it were possible for Mihashi to look any more dejected, but he manages.

The boys file out past him, whispering things to each other once they think they’re out of earshot. Abe glowers after them, then steps into the room.

There are papers, bits of clothing, and the miscellaneous treasures of another’s life strewn across the floor up to an invisible line dividing the narrow room in half; Abe wonders whether that was the work of the group of boys but it’s honestly what he was expecting given the state of Mihashi’s classroom desk. He notices a baseball almost hidden behind one leg of the bed.

_Didn’t think he was part of the club…_

And no Mihashi.

Abe has half a second of confusion before he pops up again on the other side of a bed, notebook clutched in trembling hand. “Um…I tried…I tried…I did the homework…sort of…?”

“Not why I’m here.” Mihashi twitches, eyes wide. Abe blinks at him for a moment then crosses the small room to the desk he’s nearest to, turning the chair around and sitting down. Mihashi turns to goggle at him, then, when Abe doesn’t immediately start screaming at him, he slowly sinks down on the floor, clutching his notebook to his chest. He barely seems his age right now, hunched up and sitting seiza and shivering too much even for the early fall chill.

“You sure you’re alright? Those boys weren’t messing with you?”

Mihashi avoids his eyes, shaking his head.

Abe opens his mouth, shuts it, sighs, then reaches into his shoulder bag. “Look, I’m not here to lecture you. I just…” He peers at Mihashi’s miserable face. “You sure you're okay?” Mihashi nods his head like an overexcited puppet. _Like hell you are._ “Good. I brought you this exercise book. It might explain some things better.”

As beaten-down as he had looked a second ago, Mihashi comes alight with gratitude. Even though what Abe’s offering him is more work.

“Th-thank…thank you, s-Sensei…” He accepts the brightly-coloured book as though it were some divine text.

Abe considers him for a minute longer, then leans forward on his spread knees. “Look, I’m here to help you, but you gotta meet me halfway. If there’s stuff you don’t get, you need to ask questions. And _you_ know how your brain works better than I do, so if you have any ideas, any thought of how we could make this stuff easier or more appealing for you…” Abe flicks his hand in a frustrated gesture; Mihashi flinches. But he’s still smiling. Sort of.

“I will! I…I want to w-work hard! For Se— I’m going to do my best!” He’s all worked up for some reason, his cheeks lightly flushed and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Abe frowns down at him a second, then nods once with a satisfied smile. “Good.” He rises to his feet, grabbing his bag, then steps past where Mihashi’s still sitting on the floor. As he does, he lets his hand graze through his hair, ruffling the back roughly. “You’ll get it.”

Mihashi hums out a happy noise, and Abe leaves feeling hopeful.

* * *

 

Abe doesn’t look up from the tests he’s grading. “Goda-sensei, are you aware of a bullying problem at this school?”

“No. Our boys are good kids, they don’t do things like that. It’s a big city problem, not out here.”

The answer is so predictable he honestly doesn’t know why he bothered asking.

He feels a lot less pleased later in the week when he walks into Class 3-8 and sees Mihashi drooping over his desk for the fifth time this week.

Not that Abe had ever been one to sleep in class but he’d never understood why some teachers got so mad about it. Being on the other side, though, he understands the almost irrational aggravation. He reigns himself in as long as he can, but the fourth time he notices Mihashi’s eyes slip closed, he loses his temper. He stops mid-sentence to step quickly down the row until he’s looming over Mihashi’s crumpled body.

“If you can’t be bothered to stay awake during lecture, go stick your head under a tap or something. At least your face will be clean then.” He doesn’t particularly think it’s funny (and honestly, he regrets the words the second they come out of his mouth), but several of the other boys snicker at it. Or perhaps just at Mihashi’s terrified and bewildered expression as he stares up at Abe.

Mihashi shoots to his feet, getting tangled in the chair and nearly pitching onto his face before Abe steadies him. More laughter, and then Mihashi bolts off into the hall. Abe sighs, rights his chair, and then returns to the head of the class to continue.

After classes, still feeling grumpy, Abe stalks down the hallway to the library to return a reference book. He can’t help disinterestedly glancing in rooms as he passes by, which is why he’s brought up short by the sight of a familiar pale spray of hair on the pillow in the nurse’s room.

He pokes his head in, finding the nurse going through inventory sheets. Keeping his voice low, he asks, “Is that Mihashi Ren?”

She glances up, her face glum. “Yes. Tomoda-kun brought him in, half-awake and soaking wet. Said he found him in the bathroom.” She glances over at her charge. “I think he’s just exhausted, to be honest. Before he passed out, I got out of him that he hasn’t slept more than an hour or two for a week.”

Abe sighs in exasperation, looking over at Mihashi's stiff body under the light blanket.

“Something wrong, Abe-kun?”

Abe’s eyes linger on Mihashi a little longer before he glances back at the nurse. “When he wakes up, call me. I need to talk to him.”

“Certainly. Your number’s in the directory, I presume?”

He nods; the nurse turns back to her work. Abe lingers for a beat, feeling as if he should confess his part in Mihashi’s condition, but he holds back. _I can fix this._

“Abe-kun, one more thing.” Her voice is low and she doesn’t look up. “When I got Mihashi-kun to change out of his wet shirt, he wouldn’t strip down until I left the room. Then when I was examining him, he wouldn’t let me draw up his shirt, and he flinched away from my touch in some places. And I’ve only been here a year, but this isn’t the first time.” She finally fixes him with a stern look. “I know there’s no point going to anyone with this. They’ll just sweep it under the rug, even _more_ so because having something like this happen to the grandson of the man running the school… All I’ll say is, that kid could really use a friend.”

Abe’s stomach sinks, both at the confirmation of what he’d suspected, and at suddenly being saddled with this responsibility for this strange small bird. But he makes himself nod once more. “I’ll…do my best. Thank you for your hard work.”

He misses the call from the nurse; her message says that she had woken Mihashi up to send him to dinner and told him to phone but suspected he wouldn’t. Abe sighs, pulling his jacket on and kicking into his shoes before setting out into the fall dusk.

He spends a long time scanning the stragglers in the cafeteria but eventually has to acknowledge Mihashi’s not there. So he turns his steps to the dorm building he’d visited last week. His knock is answered by an implacable young man in glasses who informs him Mihashi isn’t here, hasn’t been back to the dorm that he knows of.

Abe sighs, steps dragging on his way back to the staircase. He doesn’t stop when an athletic-looking young man slips through a door in front of him, not until the kid grabs his jacket sleeve. He has large, expressive eyes and the air of someone who laughs a lot, although his current expression is grim.

“Abe-sensei, you’re looking for Mihashi?”

“Yeah. I wanted to check up on him. …Kanou-kun, right?”

Kanou smiles a little. “Mm-hm!” He drops eye-contact for a second in some internal debate, then fixes Abe with another serious look, his voice dropping to a whisper. “When he disappears like this…you’ll probably find him at the old diamond.”

Abe squints at him for a second, then asks, also whispering for some reason, “Baseball diamond?”

Kanou nods tightly. For a breath, he looks like he’ll say something more, but then he just nods once more and steps back through his door.

Abe has to check the school’s map; the field in question has been out of use probably longer than Mihashi has been attending here. He’s starting to suspect some dubiously funny prank as he squelches up to the gate.

But sure enough, hunched dismally in one of the dugouts and kicking the ground, is Mihashi.

Abe debates calling out to him; the screech of the gate makes his decision for him. Mihashi sits bolt upright, staring at him in terror. Which means that now Abe can see he’s got a baseball clutched in both hands. Only for a moment before Mihashi drops it with a cry, stumbling to his feet and scrambling into the far corner of the dugout. And then realises he’s effectively trapped himself. Abe’s eyebrows pull tighter and tighter together as he bears down on him. Squeaking out more ridiculous little noises, Mihashi turns to the fence, gripping it as if he wants to climb it but can’t summon the will.

Abe grabs his shoulder roughly, hauling him around. “Why the hell are you acting like I’m here to punish you? Calm _down!_ ”

Shockingly, Mihashi does not calm down.

Abe glowers at him as he struggles against his grip, turning away as much as possible. “What’s your damn problem? I’m here because I’m _concerned_ about you! Why—” Abe stills, peering at Mihashi’s face.

 _I need to calm down. But it’s fucking_ impossible _with this guy._

Mihashi’s peeking at him warily with one eye.

_That’s a little better._

Gradually, Mihashi turns towards him, now giving him that ridiculous wide-eyed open-mouthed stare. Abe frowns at him, baffled, but makes himself loosen his grip on Mihashi’s shoulder, letting his hand slide down to his arm.

“A-a-Abe-sensei…was…was worried??”

Abe rubs between his brows. “ _Yes_. That’s what I _just. Said_.”

“Then…then Abe-sensei isn’t…isn’t mad?”

“What?” he snaps, “Of _course_ I’m pissed! You can’t go around staying up all night and then sleeping through classes!”

It takes only a second for Mihashi’s tentative friendliness to slip back into terror. And confusion, Abe thinks. He waits patiently for him to spit out whatever’s on his mind, but Mihashi just scans jerkily around the dugout, mouth working soundlessly.

“What? What is it? Just _tell_ me!” He realises he’s clenched his hand again; slowly, he makes himself relax.

Mihashi’s eyes dart to his face, then away again. He ducks his chin down, mumbling something inaudible. Abe has to resist the urge to shake him violently.

“Speak up.”

With a flinch, Mihashi tries again. “Was…up because…book, and…but I take…I take a long time…so…so…” He looks up at Abe again, some inexplicably desperate hope shining in his eyes. “But I’m! I’m almost f-f-finished it! So…so…”

Abe stares at him, feeling his stomach drop. A gloating voice in the back of his head says _wow, you’ve_ really _fucked this one up, Takaya._ He releases Mihashi, steps away from him to flop down on the bench. _That book was supposed to last him all term._

After a beat, Mihashi stops looking as though he wants to absorb into the fence behind him.

“You were staying up to work on the exercises I gave you.” In his peripheral vision, he sees Mihashi nod. “What…what on _earth_ made you think that was what I wanted you to do?” A shrug this time, Mihashi’s hands creeping up in front of his face. Abe looks up at him, feeling conflicting urges to yank his hands away or pat his arm consolingly. Instead, he glances away, patting the bench beside him. “Sit.”

Mihashi interprets this to mean ‘sit seiza on the bench like a weirdo’, but he’s not cowering at the other end, so Abe decides to call it a win. He turns as well, propping one leg up on the bench.

 _Feels like old times. Except then I’d’ve been going over strategy and checking my pitcher's condition, not…whatever the hell it is I’m doing here._ He watches Mihashi fuss and avoid his eyes, then takes a breath.

“I need you to be honest with me. If you’re honest, there’s a chance I can help you. If not…” He sighs, shaking his head.

Scattered drops spatter on the concrete of the dugout, blending seamlessly into a gentle rustle of noise. “I’ll…I’ll answer,” Mihashi informs his hands.

“Good.” Abe studies his tawny hair and the angles of his scrawny body, what little he can see of his tense, worried expression. _Now that he says that, I don’t even know where to start…_ “Are you being bullied?” _Not gentle, but oh well. I don’t do gentle._

Mihashi cringes, then twitches, looking as though some epic internal battle were occurring. His eyes flick up to Abe’s and then away again; slowly, he nods once.

 _And now that I have my confirmation, I have no fucking clue what to do with it._ “Why did you run from me just now? For that matter, why did you ignore the nurse when she told you to call me?” He narrows his eyes. “You even eaten?”

Shrugging, Mihashi stares back at him with a helpless expression.

“You’re not even wearing a coat! Your dorm is a ten minute walk from here, were you planning on—” Abe leans his elbow on his bent knee, at a loss. _You need a goddamn babysitter, not me._ As if in confirmation, Mihashi starts sniffling. Abe drags his hand down his face and grits out a frustrated noise before getting to his feet. Mihashi instantly cowers against the wall, particularly when Abe strips off his jacket and advances on him.

“Here.” He drops the jacket in Mihashi’s lap. “Let’s go get you something to eat.”

Mihashi goggles up at him, already gripping the edge of the jacket like a lifesaver. Abe meets his eyes for a moment longer before turning and climbing the dugout steps. He hears the squelch of Mihashi’s shoes as he runs to catch up.

At the gate, Abe hesitates. Resolutely, he turns away from the path that would take them to the cafeteria, strikes out towards the edge of campus. When he glances over his shoulder, Mihashi’s got the jacket up over his head; it flaps around him like a ridiculous cape. Abe smiles, ignoring the icy wetness spreading down from his shoulders.

There’s a small Indian restaurant that Abe has stopped at a few times on his way home. The elderly woman who seems to run the place with her son nods them to a seat and then follows them with menus. Abe has to tell Mihashi twice to take the dripping jacket off, and after watching him pick anxiously at the edge of the menu for several minutes, takes it from him. He orders enough for one voracious teen and one man not so far past teen that he doesn’t want a post-dinner ‘snack’. And then finds himself staring down an awestruck and slightly damp Mihashi.

“Was it helpful at least?”

Mihashi jumps, eyes darting about.

“The book, I mean. Did it make anything clearer?”

“Um…” Mihashi’s eyebrows work. “The…it was…for some things? I think… I still get stuff w-wrong a lot… But! But I think I understand…with the…with the…” He traces his finger through the air in a way that Abe eventually figures must indicate a parabola.

He makes himself give Mihashi an easy smile. “Good. That’s good. We can work on the other stuff. Then again,” his frown returns, “it’d probably be easier if you weren’t working on it in the middle of the night.” Mihashi nods solemnly. Abe sips his water, debating. “You can’t overwork like that or you’ll just burn out. You don’t have any club activities, do you?” Mihashi flinches but then shakes his head. “Good. From now on, you’ll come with me after class. I’ll keep the book at my apartment; you can work there.”

 _This is probably hideously unethical._ But for some reason he’s determined to turn Mihashi into a success, into a beneficial learning experience for _both_ of them.

Their food comes; Mihashi hesitantly serves himself from the steaming dishes but then sets to as though he’d only just remembered what food was. Abe considers him meditatively while he serves himself. And then attempts to eat, feeling unreasonably irked when Mihashi keeps peeking up at him and then looking away.

“What?”

“Um! Um, does…does Abe-sensei…” He pokes at some paneer. “I want to m-make… How…?”

“What.”

He waves his hands aimlessly. “The…the food… Making…”

Abe gives him a perplexed frown. “How the hell should _I_ know?”

Mihashi cringes, eyes dropping. “I…I guess…s-sorry…”

“Just eat. You like cooking?"

Mihashi flushes spectacularly. "Y-yeah, though I don't... I got to try? But in the dorms... But! I'm..." He smiles, hunching in on himself. "I'm...kind of...a little bit...good at it..."

Abe stares at him in surprise. _That's the first time I've heard you say something so positive._ He turns an idea over in his mind for a second before picking up his fork again.“If you can bring your grade up on the next test, you can use my kitchen.”

Mihashi swells with happiness; Abe has to hide a laugh between his water. “A-Abe-sensei is a good person! I…I…”

Abe waves his fork at him. “I’m _not_ being nice. I mean it. I _don’t_ want you working yourself to the bone, but I want to see some focused effort.”

Mihashi nods excitedly. When he takes another bite, he hums something that’s barely a tune, just a funny little happy noise. Abe is annoyed to find that it’s…kind of endearing.

* * *

 

Mihashi returns to the dorm feeling as though a protective blanket were wrapped around him. He gets ready for bed and then curls up around his full belly under the covers.

_Abe-sensei is really a nice person! He’s taking care of me, even though I’m a burden…_

He wriggles the exercise book free from under the pillow, hugging it.

_I’m going to work even harder, so Abe-sensei won’t have to anymore!_

_I want…I wanna see Abe-sensei smile at me again…_

**Author's Note:**

> will I run Mihashi being a better cook than Abe into the ground? YES. yes I will.


End file.
